


Winter's Eyes (And the Freedom They Hold)

by MissMariaReynolds



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Jon is a family friend, Wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 10:51:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7505407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMariaReynolds/pseuds/MissMariaReynolds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sansa is having doubts on her wedding day, and she turns to family friend Jon Snow for help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winter's Eyes (And the Freedom They Hold)

**Author's Note:**

> Literally everyone does this AU, I know. I just want to try my hand at modern Jonsa, so feedback would be greatly appreciated. Thanks and I hope it's okay!

The day was absolutely perfect. The sun was high in the sky but it wasn't so aggressively hot for June. The sky itself was as clear blue as her eyes and there wasn't a cloud in sight. Her dress, her beautiful perfect white wedding gown, fit like a glove, and the bouquet arrived in prime, fresh condition. By all accounts, this would be the most smooth wedding in recent history. Sansa wanted to throw up.    
  
She knew Joffrey didn't love her, from his cruel words to his crueler touches. She knew his mother thought she was a vapid idiot, for all Sansa tried to do was please her. Sansa put on a performance every waking moment, and perhaps even in her dreams. This was only the beginning of her life and she was already worn thin.    
  
All throughout her childhood she dreamed of this day, of how she would be the happiest bride in the world and the groom would be gentle and kind and romantic, a knight, a prince. Whenever she imagined walking down the aisle in just an hour, she pictured Joffrey standing next to a guillotine. She swallowed hard and paced before stopping at the door. She opened it a crack. Her sister was leaning next to the door on her phone.    
  
"Arya," Sansa said, putting on her most pleasant smile. She looked up. "I need you to get..." Who can be honest with her? Who can help... "Jon."   
  
"Jon?" Arya repeated, confused. "What do you need Jon for?"   
  
"Please," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. Arya shrugged and pushed off from the wall, tottering slightly in the heels and slim bridesmaid dress Sansa picked out. As soon as Arya rounded the corner Sansa wanted to shout, "Come back! Never mind!" She pressed her lips together.    
  
She could've asked for Robb, who would always be supportive of her choices, who she was actually close to. Or she could've called for her mother. She would certainly comfort her. But instead she asked for Jon Snow, Robb's best friend for years and practically part of the family. Except around her. She was never overly kind to him, they barely spoke until he came back to town a few months before her wedding. There was something different about him. His dark gray eyes were harder, yet held a certain warmth in them when he looked at her. His voice caused a thunderstorm in her chest when he spoke to her, soft and real. Where he was once thin as a rail he had now filled out, covered in firm muscles, and sturdy and steadfast when she hugged him. That was new, too. She can't remember ever hugging him before the past few months. She just–   
  
There was a knock on the door. Tentative, unsure. Sansa took halting steps to the door and opened it, letting Jon inside. She closed it and leaned against the frame. For some reason she felt like a deer in headlights.    
  
Jon looked her over once. "That's not you," he said. Sansa looked down at the dress, and no, it really wasn't. If she had her way she would look like a princess, with a ballgown skirt and a simple yet elegant top. She had it all planned out, once.   
  
"Cersei insisted," she admitted. He looked a little too good in a tux, she noted before closing her eyes and turning her head away. A long silence settled in the room.    
  
After a moment she heard him take a breath. "Why am I here?"   
  
"I wanted to see you before...."   
  
"Before you threw your life away?" Jon finished. She met his eyes.    
  
"You can't say that," she whispered.    
  
"I think you wanted to hear it, that's why you asked me to come," he said, and of course he was right. Jon took a step towards her.    
  
"What do I do?" Sansa asked. "I can't just call it off."    
  
"I'm fairly certain you can do what you want," Jon said. He moved closer still, so close that she could reach out and touch him, so close that she could inhale the scent of him, woodsy and naturally masculine   
  
"What do you want?" Sansa asked. Her hand rose to his cheek, and she could feel the slight rasp of stubble against her fingers. He lifted his own hand and cupped the back of her head, careful of the elaborate braids that were weighing heavier on her neck by the minute. He held her gaze for a moment, as if he was trying to communicate something with his intense gray stare. She felt like she was getting a little lost in winter, in home. A surprised noise escaped her throat as he leaned forward, but he simply tilted his head up and pressed his lips to her forehead. Sansa wished in that moment that time would stop and all her problems would evaporate. Too soon he pulled away, taking a few steps back from her.

 

“I want what you want, and it sure as hell isn’t this,” Jon said. After a pause he took a breath and continued, “And if it’s us you want, I’ll have a car out back in five minutes. If not, I’m going.”  _ Us. He said us.  _ All she could do was nod, and he slipped out the door behind her. 

 

The moment the door closed she had her hands in her hair, pulling the braids out until her hair was flowing freely down her back. She proceeded to peel the dress off of herself in a blur, praying that she was fast enough as she pulled on the sundress she was wearing earlier that day. When she burst into the hallway Arya looked up once more, surprise on her face accompanied by a small smile. 

  
When she burst through the back doors and hurried down the steps to the beat up truck, she felt like a bird released from its cage.


End file.
